


They That Mourn

by pfeifferpack



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 22:28:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6169030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pfeifferpack/pseuds/pfeifferpack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The summer after "The Gift" and Spike discovers he's been missing more than just Buffy when a part of his past is returned to him.  What if all you thought you remembered wasn't quite what happened?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Notes:  
> The strike and deaths mentioned are fictional but fit the climate of the times. The title is from the Bible Matthew 5:4 "Blessed are they that mourn for they shall be comforted."

~*~  
Prologue  
~*~

Spike woke with a start. He had slept at the house on Revello Drive the past few nights, but the Scoobies were all gathered there at the moment, so Spike had taken the opportunity to make sure all the demons of Sunnydale knew that his crypt was not up for grabs. He hadn't had a decent day's sleep since his Slayer had taken that leap from the tower and he'd fallen into a deep slumber as soon as his head hit the familiar pillow. Now, even with only a brief time spent in unconscious bliss, he was once more awake and alert.

He shifted into game face and looked around the shadowed chamber, trying to see the interloper. "Come on out," Spike demanded forcefully. "Know you're there."

The wraith-like form seemed to glide into the small circle of light cast by the lone candle Spike had lit before sleeping. Spike sat up, his head against the headboard of the bed. No telling what this visit might be about and he was too muddled from lack of sleep to let his guard down.

"My poor Spike has lost 'is Aurora. The sun is gone but left behind the Dawn." The dark-eyed vampiress moved forward, never faltering in her gaze. "Don't despair, my poor boy, after the Summers came the fall and now winter has its icy fingers on you. Only spring left 'till Summers is back though."

"What do you want, Dru?" Spike sighed. "Thought you'd washed your hands of me the last time you paid a surprise visit. Not plannin' to chase after you this time, if that's what you're thinkin'. There's nothing left of me to take either."

"Not 'ere to take, William; 'ere to give back." Dru was close enough to touch as she whispered the words. "Didn't 'elp after all. Took 'em because you already 'ad a princess, didn't need the other. Make my William all torn, and not the pretty, red, sticky kind. Come to give 'em back now, like a good mum. My William needs 'em to get through the rest of the winter and the spring to come."

Spike was starting to get unnerved. He used to take Dru's odd fits and starts in stride, but he was long out of practice and quickly losing patience as well. "Just leave whatever it is on that table and head on out of town again, Dru. Plenty of do-gooders 'round here'd love to put a piece of wood in that pretty chest of yours."

"Look at me, my pretty boy. Look at your princess." Dru began to sway slightly. Spike felt a ribbon of fear wrap around him, but he wasn't able to look away as his former love locked her eyes with his. "Remember," she spoke and then turned and left as swiftly and silently as the ghost she had appeared to be.

"No!" Spike nearly wept. "How could you have taken that from me?!"

~*~

The moon cast eerie shadows amongst the headstones and mausoleums of the quiet cemetery where lay the remains of one Buffy Anne Summers. The setting was peaceful, almost inviting. A bunch of stargazer lilies lay near the simple stone next to a bouquet of daisies left earlier. The giver of the lilies sat in silence as pale, still and perfect as the marble statues scattered here and there around him.

"Hello, Buffy love." His voice was a deep rumble of sorrow. "Did I ever tell you about where I first saw you? When I first fell into your beautiful expressive eyes and pledged my life to you?" Spike paused, as if waiting for a response to his questions. "Didn't think so. Didn't rightly remember myself 'til just yesterday."

Spike plucked a blade of grass from beside Buffy's grave and twirled it between his fingers as he drew in his breath. "Dru paid me a little visit. No, didn't dust her. She didn't snack on any locals either … made sure of that. Said she heard my heart break all the way down in Argentina. Came to give me a gift, something she stole from me that I might be wantin' back."

The night wind increased as if in a silken touch of encouragement that he should go on. "Dru has more than a bit of magic in her, pet. Can make a man see what she wants him to see, forget what she wants him to forget too, for that matter. She said she left my feelin's and memories alone after we came here. After she got her daddy back and didn't care any more. Before that, though, she didn't like the competition for my attention. Jealous of a young boy's dreams and a young man's desire back then. Like a surgeon she was, takin' out parts and leavin' the rest."

He looked off into the distant darkness as if seeking something. "Wonder how our first meetin' woulda gone if I'd had 'em then." Spike sighed in regret. "Bit too late for THAT, water over the dam or under the bridge or whatnot. Mighta made a difference though, least for me."

"Where was I?" Spike asked, expecting no answer. "Oh, yeah, the first time I ever saw you. 'Twas a night much like this one, filled with warm breezes, bloomin' flowers and grief enough to still a beatin' heart."

~*~  
Chapter 1  
~*~

~ Swan Haven, a country house near Lorton in the Lake District ~

He would always remember that day clearly. It was a day of many firsts. The first time he heard his father curse. The first time he didn't cause an uproar by being late and untidy for supper. Even the usually fierce countenance of Mrs. Beecham, his grandfather's housekeeper and a stickler for decorum, was softened by the events of the day. It was the first time he felt the sting of knowing what it was to forever lose one held dear. It was also the first time he saw them, the dark fairie and the bright princess. The first time he had the dreams.

Earlier that day William had been running the hills and sailing his cherished toy boat in the stream behind his grandfather's home in the Fells. He loved visits to the country, even if beneath his grandfather's stern look beat an even sterner heart. 'Twas the year of our Lord 1861 and William Pratt was free from his tutors and the confines of London. Free to frisk with his younger cousin Maggie, as what remained of his mother's clan gathered in annual reunion.

They were Scots originally and held strong to family bonds. His Uncle Christie, Maggie's da, was the only remaining son of a family that had produced many a proud MacRorie in years gone by. The family was dwindling with each passing year and now they'd been informed that yet another member would forever be missing from these reunions.

William adored his eldest brother Graham. The young man was ever quick to take up for his baby brother. He took the time to actually talk to the boy, to listen to Will's dreams and fears. Graham fueled the boy's fires of imagination and fantasy. Graham was everything that William ever hoped to be and longed to live up to. If ever an older brother was hero-worshipped, it was Graham. And now he was forever gone.

His gentle mother was sedated in her room as the rest of the family gathered in the dining parlor. Rather than the quiet meal one might expect from a grieving family, it was the setting for yet another round of accusations and placing of blame.

"If the demmed fool hadn't gone off on one of his Quixotic ventures to save the world, this would never have happened. Henry, it was your place to stop the boy's tilting at windmills and risking the family line." Grandfather MacRorie glared at his son-in-law. "All that energy and education should have been pointed in the right direction."

Henry Pratt sat with a stricken face for a moment before answering, his English temperament not matching the fire of his wife's more emotional tribe. "Graham was deeply troubled by the source of our family fortune. It mattered not to the boy that it was in the last century. He despised the notion that any of his ease was earned by transportation of slaves to the colonies. University only increased his sense of responsibility."

William and his sister Sophia dared not speak a word, as the dinner table was not the place for youngsters to express anything, much less opinions on such a volatile topic as their eldest sibling's various causes and cares.

Aunt Rosamund, however, was under no such restriction and she shared her father-in-law's disposition towards passion in her speaking. "You know well that Graham had but a tender heart. He sought redemption from our less than stellar history, that is all. Though from what personal failing, I am at a loss. To cast blame on him for this tragedy is really out of line, Father."

"Then the lad should have taken Holy Orders and rescued the lot of us AND half the countryside too. Your family made money in shipping. So what? The cargo was perfectly legal then, an honest day's work. They merely transported them; had no part in the purchase or sale. Besides, the whole industry was ended before even you were born, Henry." Grandfather MacRorie stabbed at the loin of mutton on his plate in emphasis.

"Blame the rabble rousers then, or Mayhew and those do-gooders that write for 'The Morning Chronicle', if you are looking for somewhere to point a finger. I tried my best with the lad. Stubborn, just like his mother," Henry replied. It was time to lay some of the blame at the old man's feet, if only by calling into it the difference in personality between himself and his Anne.

"Glad I take after you then, Father," chimed in the only of Henry's offspring old enough to be allowed table talk. "Won't find me taking up causes for the disadvantaged. I say let them find work like the rest of us. I'm not aiming for some seat at a non-existent round table surrounded by courtly knights." Cameron Pratt leaned back in his chair and smirked a bit. 

 

William chanced a whisper to his sister, "Good thing too. Cam's aim isn't that good. Wonder when it was he did that day's work himself?" Sophia muffled a snicker at her little brother's insight. Their remaining brother was as different from his elder as night and day. Sophia had no doubt that Cameron might well bring the family to ruin before he reached his majority. Already father had to pay exorbitant gambling debts Cameron had incurred.

"Yes, we do still have you, and your brother William, to carry on the family name and business," Henry agreed genially. "Still and all, I'm proud of Graham. His moral code and sense of honor were of the highest caliber." Henry wished some of those morals had rubbed off on the lazy wastrel that was his new heir apparent.

Grandfather MacRorie snorted, half in disgust. "Did him a fat lot of good though, dinnit? Boy with his looks and potential getting involved in a labor strike--it was bound to lead to tragedy. Business owner has a right to protect what's his. My mills are filled with grumbling weavers, but they know what's good for the company is good for them and their bellies."

Henry was beginning to become angry at his father-in-law's suggestion that Graham had received his just desserts in some way when Anne entered the room. "I could hear all of you from my room. I shall not have my son blamed for his own murder. Father, I respect and love you, but I'll not hear another word. Graham followed his heart and did as he felt was right, just as he was raised to do. No business owner has the right to take a life because his workers dare to ask for a better wage. Three young men lost their lives; there are two other grieving families as well this day."

The meal continued without further argument as none dared heap more misery upon Anne. As for that good lady, she sat in stony silence, not eating a thing, as if knowing only her presence had brought this moment of peace.

~~~

"Do you think it hurt much?" William asked Sophia as she tucked the boy into his bed later that night. "I am certain that Graham died bravely, but do you think he was in much pain?"

"Well, a bullet would have to hurt, silly! I don't think he would have been alive too long after it hit though. I'm sure Graham was quickly at peace." Sophia was a somber eleven-year-old given to reflection. "I am certain that God sent his Angels to whisk Graham to heaven in good hurry though. Our brother was the best of men, after all."

"I shall be just like him when I am grown, Sophie. I'll make you and mother proud," William vowed.

Sophia kissed her little brother on the brow and smiled down at him gently. "I am sure you will. You always help others, and didn't you keep Maggie from falling off Lorton Bridge just yesterday?" At William's pleased smile, she stood. "Say your prayers now, Will, and get your rest. We'll all have to learn how to get on without Graham here to show us the way."

William slipped into a fitful sleep filled with imagined scenes of his beloved brother's death. His dreams changed then as a dark-eyed woman stared at him from across the bloodied courtyard of the factory where Graham Pratt fell while protesting child labor. She was exotic, with a nearly feral look to her from some angles. Her smile made William shiver in his dreams. The lady approached as if gliding, her eyes never leaving the small boy.

 

"Wot 'ave we 'ere then?" the dark beauty asked. "I spy a young Knight lookin' to take up 'is brother's armour. You be too small for that, my pretty boy, but you'll grow to a fine size in time," she said to the awestruck child.

"Who are you? Are you a gypsy?" William was both drawn to and repelled by the woman before him.

"Not a gypsy, though Mama did say it could be where I got the sight," the lady added, more to herself than the boy. "You may call me your princess." She nodded like a royal conferring a special honor on him.

"What sort of princess? You don't look like any of Queen Victoria's daughters. I've seen sketches of them in the papers," William challenged her claim.

The lady laughed, a small tinkling sound filled with hidden mirth. "More like Titania's than stuffy Victoria. Yes, that's it! A fairie princess is wot I am, if you like. Come to take a 'uman child under my fairie wings."

"You're naught but a dream," William corrected. "Not real at all."

"But I'm very real, my William. One day we'll meet in the outer world and I'll make you mine, but for now we'll meet 'ere in the dark where I live and you will as well one day." The woman smiled on the boy in satisfaction.

"I already have a mum. How can you make me yours?" William didn't understand this part of the dream at all.

"Different kind of mummy and you shall be my dark Knight forever, when you are ready. Pixies 'ave promised you to me, they 'ave. Only thing keeps me out of the sun. Daddy will never want just me, but I 'ave you to look forward to and that will be enough for now. We'll 'ave cakes and rooms full of girlies to play with when you become my champion."

William blinked in confusion, not sure how to respond to the strange woman and her rantings. From the corner of his eye, he saw her then….the light was blinding around her as she strode towards them. William remembered a picture book Graham had once given to him filled with mythical gods and this woman reminded him of a Valkyrie, blonde and powerful for all her smallness.

The vision said not a word but the dark fairie princess let out a cry of frustration at her arrival. "'E's mine, not yours. You wouldn't know wot to do with the likes of 'im."

The blonde goddess rolled her eyes at the woman and pointed toward the dark princess's chest causing the dark princess to turn to powder. "She isn't your destiny, William Pratt; I am." And with that, the goddess disappeared as well.

William woke with a start, rapidly looking around the room as if expecting one or both the strange women to be there. He got up and crossed to the pitcher on the dressing table to get a drink and recover from his powerful dreams before trying to sleep again. From that point in his room he could hear the conversation between his parents as it drifted up the chimney from the library below. 'That must have wakened me.' He sighed as he realized he was the topic of conversation.

~~~

"Still, Henry, you know how close William was to Graham. Do you really think this is the time to change his tutor as well? He quite adores Mr. Crichlow and this Mr. Oxley seems more rigid and taciturn. Perhaps you should think again on this."

"My darling wife, you know so very much of comforting and caring for your family, but nothing whatsoever about the needs of a young lad in preparing for a proper education. Mr. Crichlow has filled the boy's head with stuff and nonsense. Between Graham and that tutor, our youngest will be spending the bulk of his school years fending off every bully to be drawn to his already smaller stature. Just let the lad show his love for myth and poetry and he'll be beaten to a pulp on a regular basis!"

Anne looked at her husband in sympathy. "I know you mean well, my dear. I am aware that William has inherited my slighter build and is much like Graham with his tender heart. But that heart is strong and his mind is quick. This Mr. Oxley will take the joy of learning away from him and that would be a tragedy."

"William has his head in the clouds. The boy is full of fairie tales and grand gestures. Why, just this past fortnight the scamp was pummeled by those loutish farm lads while trying to defend the dubious honor of a local milkmaid! He fairly worships Graham but hasn't the health or stature to follow in his footsteps with any success." Henry was determined, "Mr. Crichlow is gone, Oxley is in and that is the end of that. All too soon we shall be sending William to St. Paul's and he'll be eaten alive the way he is developing."

Anne looked ready to cry. "William could do far worse than to pattern himself after Graham."

"Of course, my love," Henry crushed his wife to his bosom. "As usual, you do have the right of it. Still, I maintain my correctness in the change of teachers.

~~~

William slipped back between the covers and closed his eyes tightly. First Graham gone forever and now Mr. Crichlow as well. The nine-year-old had never felt so alone.

Sleep reclaimed the teary boy and with it came dreams that were as dragons slain by the morning's sharp shaft of light. Neither of his ladies, light or dark, returned that night, even though they would ever return from that night forward.


	2. Chapter 2

~*~  
Chapter 2  
~*~

~ London 1864 ~

 

William preferred to think of that day in 1860 as one of firsts. It held more of a sense of optimism that way and he was always one to reach for beauty and hope. Still, it was the first in a seemingly endless series of losses that eternally defined him.

Graham was gone, never more to ruffle his small brother's hair and play joust with him on riverbanks or tell him thrilling stories of ancient heroes and of loves worthy of one's death.

There was no longer the beloved brother to stand between William and Cameron either. His father need not have worried over William learning how to deal with bullies, as he received many a lesson from his other brother over the course of time.

The buffer between his stern father and disapproving grandfather had fallen to just Anne with Graham's passing and her tender support and encouragement was not the same as his adored brother had given. No more was there someone to tickle the tears away and make the small boy feel special and powerful. No one left to make him dream big and believe that William could actually achieve those dreams.

The dreaded change in tutors took place, but William had not lost his love of learning, in spite of the dour personality of Mr. Oxley. In fact, that good gentleman ignited an interest in mathematics that had previously eluded William. His move into day school that next year was seamless.

William was feeling quite grown at the age of twelve. The school term at St. Paul's was coming to a close and, unlike every other summer of William's life, there would be no trip to the Lake District, no wandering the Fells. Grandfather MacRorie had fallen at last and the old man's iron rule and annual reunions came to an end.

William waited in the hallway for an audience with his father to discuss the next school year and his entry into the time-honored tradition of young English gentlemen and boarding schools. Harrow had been chosen, to be followed in good time by a place at his father's alma mater of Cambridge.

Cameron had disgraced himself and the family by being sent down from that grand school. He was refused re-admittance. It would be up to William to restore his family name to one of honor, if that were possible.

Cam was even now in their father's study being dressed down for the millionth time in William's memory. The younger boy squirmed at the prospect of becoming the whipping boy for his older sibling, if things went as they usually did during one of these conferences. William was highly glad that his own audience with their father would keep him from Cam's clutches, for a while at least.

"I tell you that I will NOT pay another of these debts, young man," Henry nearly shouted. "I am being dunned by every shopkeeper in London due to your spendthrift ways. I will not be responsible for your wagers as well."

"But Father, if I am not able to make good on this little gamble, I shall lose membership at the Savage Club!" Cameron Pratt had lost his membership in the more established clubs frequented by the upper-class male population. The 'brother savages' gathered in taverns for the most part and had only been in existence for a handful of years. "This is the last club open to me, Father. Do you not see the importance of my maintaining proper friendships?"

"These are not your friends, son. Anyone who encourages your baser instincts cannot be called friend." Henry was terribly disappointed in his middle son. Whereas Graham had been a bit too concerned with honor and duty to others, Cameron had little honor and showed loyalty only to his own desires. His indulgence in drink and loose women was a byword amongst his peers and his gambling debts were mounting to unbelievable proportions.

"Just what was the bet you 'could not possibly lose' that cost this amount, Cameron?"

"Dandridge wagered his pint would lose its froth before mine. I should have won that bet; there was far less foam on mine to begin with. It seemed a sure way to recoup my other losses," Cameron pouted.

Henry shook his head sadly, "You don't even gamble on reasonable things. Cards or dice, where a bit of skill might make such acceptable is one thing, but you will wager on every nincompoop idea to be put before you! Nothing is sacred." Henry looked with distaste on his boy. "I heard of your wagering on the possible date of your grandfather's demise. I said nothing to your sainted mother. It would have broken her heart.

"You have dragged this family down into genteel poverty, lad. No, I shall not pay this debt on top of the others. Time you learned to clean up your own messes." Henry stood, indicating the interview was at an end.

"Father, you can't do this to me! Dandridge wants payment now, not when I can scrape funds together. You are leaving me open to far worse than being driven from society," Cameron sounded desperate. "Please. I'll do whatever you ask, if you'll just cover this last debt."

"Where have I heard this before?" Henry began to think how he might turn this to his advantage as he noted how desperate Cameron appeared.

"I mean it, Father. I'll even go to work at the shipyard as you've wanted." Cameron had been dancing around assuming any responsibility for his entire life thus far. The idea of working in the offices of his father's primary business disgusted him, but Charlie Dandridge was a dangerous fellow to cross.

"Perhaps you would learn more, and be safer, if I assigned you a very special task with the company instead," Henry hinted. "Do you mean what you say, that you will abide by my command provided I pay this wager?"

"Yes, Father, anything. I'll build the damned boats for you if I must," Cam cried.

"Not build," Henry suggested, "Deliver."

"What?" Cameron was appalled. He was no sailor.

"I have a ship that is to be delivered to a private concern across the Atlantic. You shall go with the ship and accept payment. You will then use that money to finance a life for yourself there. When you think you can conduct yourself in a manner befitting your background you may return." Henry knew his wife would be furious that her son was being exiled, especially to a part of the world still warring with itself. 'Must do something to try to make a man of this boy, however. Anne will just have to understand.'

William nearly fell out of his chair when he heard his father level his condition. Cameron would be gone? Could his life possibly be taking a turn for the better, or at least more comfortable? 'The American Civil War was the sort of situation where a blackguard like Cameron might just prosper,' thought his younger brother.

So lost in thought about this startling turn of events was William that he missed his brother storm from the study and out the front door of their fashionable home.

"William," his father's voice broke into his thoughts, "I'm ready for that word with you now."

~~~

Perhaps it was the impending removal of William's only remaining brother that brought a return of the dream. It could have been an unsettled stomach as well. Tensions were running high in the Pratt household after Cameron's exile was announced over the evening meal. The conversations that followed did little to aid digestion of Cook's fine roast.

Whatever the impetus, the dream did come. At first William thought the golden goddess would not arrive to counter the dark princess, but arrive she did. She glimmered in the sunlight like the most precious of gold. The rest of the dream was similar in content to the first one, with the dark princess claiming to hold ownership of William and the golden goddess turning the other to ash.

This time along with claiming that she was William's destiny, his goddess deigned to place a kiss on his brow. William vowed to lay down his life for this goddess if need be. Somehow he felt safe and free in her presence as he had at no other time in his real life until now. She  
was his destiny, his reason. The dark lady might claim that he belonged to her, but William's heart knew better.

The two women made only one more appearance that year: the night the Pratt household was once more thrust into grief with the news that Cameron's ship had sunk off the coast of North Carolina. There were no survivors. William was now his father's heir apparent.


	3. Chapter 3

~*~  
Chapter 3  
~*~

~ Cambridge 1870 ~

"Permit me to offer my deepest sympathies, Pratt." The dean was sincere in his condolences. Young William Pratt was one of the more promising scholars and not prone to troublemaking as was his older brother. "Your father was a fine man and a credit to this institution."

William knew he should be more shocked than he was, but the news that his father had succumbed to a heart attack actually came as little surprise. Henry Pratt had been working feverishly to replenish the family coffers that years of Cameron's antics and bad luck had drained. The past six years had seen a return to comfortable status for the family and the hope that the future might see in increase to actual ease. Sadly, now Henry would not see that day.

"Yes, thank you. He was indeed a fine man, sir." William spoke mechanically, his mind already on the new responsibilities his father's death had thrust upon him. He had his mother's welfare to see to, as well as his sister Sophia.

The dean was still speaking as William's mind traveled the distance to London and home. "Naturally, your teachers will all welcome you back as soon as the situation permits. With your proven abilities, you should have little difficulty catching up with your class."

William was humbled by the compliment. "I appreciate your faith in my talents, sir, and can but hope to live up to it." .

"Do give my sympathies to your mother, William," the dean added in uncharacteristic familiarity. "I knew her when she was still little Annie MacRorie from the Derwent Fells. We all envied your father for winning her heart and then her hand."

"Indeed, sir, I did not realize you were familiar with my mother, but I shall pass on your sentiments," William promised. "Have I your leave to go then, sir?"

"Yes, yes, of course. I assume you shall be traveling by rail?"

"That would be the quickest way home," William agreed.

"I shall send my coach then to transport you and your baggage. Godspeed, Mr. Pratt."

~~~

Anne and Sophie were in the morning room when William arrived. "Thank you, Hobbs," he said as he offered his coat to the butler. "Please have Mrs. Lamb make my room ready for me."

"Quite so, Master William, I believe she already has a fire laid in your room in anticipation of your arrival," the old retainer replied.

"Mother, Sophie…I cannot say how sorry I am that this has happened while I was away at University. I made haste to return home as soon as I received word."

"William, I am so relieved to see you!" Sophia threw herself in her brother's arms. "Mother is quite beside herself."

Indeed, William had never seen his mother so pale, so still. Anne had always been a lively woman filled with energy and good cheer. Only the deepest of sorrows had ever brought her this low. "Mother, I am but a poor substitute for father, but I vow you will never need shoulder your burdens alone. I am, as ever, yours to command."

Anne smiled tenderly on her only remaining son and pondered how odd that they had all thought him to be the weakest of the family. His quiet strength had always been there through the years and now she knew she could rely on him without question.

"I'll not have you sacrifice your plans for us, William," she assured him in a quiet, grief-filled voice. "Once everything is settled, you shall be returning to University and your studies. You are but eighteen and have your whole life ahead of you."

"Nonsense, dear one. What good would be my dreams if they didn't include my special ladies?" Indeed, none of William's plans had ever excluded his beloved family members. "We'll hear no more of sacrifice on behalf of any of us. We are family and shall persevere together. Is that not the way of it?"

"I am no useless flibbertigibbet either," Sophia added. "Madame Deveroux's Academy is right here in London and I shan't need to live there to continue teaching. I shall be delighted to move back home and away from that pack of spoiled, unruly girls to help here with my family." The last thing Sophia wished was for her brother to give up on his studies. He was a scholar and belonged in school. "Mother and I can easily send for you should the need arise."

"Yes, but what of the business?" William pointed out. "Father had just begun to show a profit again and I'll not have either of you in want."

"That very attitude is what took your dear father from me," Anne reminded her children. "Your father has a very capable man of business who has proven to be honest and clever. I am certain he will continue to see us prosper without your having to end your education before you've really begun." Anne looked at her daughter fondly. "And as for you moving back here, Sophia, I would like nothing better. I have spent many a wakeful night in worry about your safety living away from the security of your own home."

Sophia began to protest lightly about her ability to tend to her own safety. She had grown up heavily influenced by the writings of Mrs. Wollstonecraft and was no simpering miss. William smiled in approval of his sister's independence and spunk.

"Yes, but it would be of great help to me nonetheless. Aside from the loss of your father," Anne reminded her, "Your Uncle Christie is sending Margaret down to us to straighten out. She's run quite wild there among the Fells and he and Rosamund despair of her ever attracting a man of quality for a husband. You are quite used to dealing with young misses like Maggie and I expect it will take both of us to keep the child out of mischief."

William smiled at the memory of his younger cousin and the many scrapes she managed to encounter. The girl was headstrong and he could not imagine even two such stalwarts as his mother and sister being able to ever reign her in properly. The girl would more likely run off with the first inappropriate suitor to take her fancy.

The discussion continued through the evening with no real resolution to the future. All parties had a tendency to put the needs of the others over their own and it only caused a situation of cross-purposes. Anne's decisions would, of course, prevail and her children were her whole world. There would be no disruption of their lives beyond the necessary if she had anything to say about it.

"We shall not solve our problems, much less those of the world, on little sleep," Anne chided gently as the hour grew ever late. "I suggest we all get rest to prepare for the long days ahead. All will be for the best."

 

~~~

The dream was a bit different that night. There was no bloodied field and fallen brothers. Instead the dark princess came from the shadows of an alleyway, her penetrating gaze as compelling yet repellant as that of a snake. "My William is now the man of the 'ouse, is 'e?"

William merely nodded in reply. He wondered at his apprehension in the company of this beautiful woman. She had been a part of his dream-life for so many years that there was a familiarity about her, unlike most females of his acquaintance aside from family.

She was a beauty, no question of that. William wondered in his waking moments why he should feel the desire to flee such a one who clearly desired him. He knew the meaning of her hints and promises now, even if inexperienced in the ways of men and women. He was no longer ignorant or a child.

"My man soon enough. Daddy forgets 'is special girl to play with grandmum. I need to seek my pleasures where I can; 's only fair. Still, there's time yet before I make you mine forever. Got a new brother, not like that naughty Penn. This one makes Grandmum all testy, like someone spoiled 'er puddin'! I'll not make 'im my prince though, don't you worry. 'E won't last. Such a good daddy I 'ave. 'Spare the rod and spoil the child', 'e knows the way.

The woman drew ever near to William as he backed slowly away from her. "You're mine, William, only mine. All been planned from the beginning, because I'm such a very good girl."

"You may have been a good girl once, but that was a long time ago, Drusilla," the golden one spoke as she appeared between the advancing woman and William. "Now you're just a crazy 'ho with too much power for anyone's safety."

William felt safer with his goddess there to fend off the dark princess. He was no coward but somehow knew himself to be defenseless in the clutches of the sloe-eyed woman.

"You go tossing out stuff about destiny, but you don't have a clue," the glowing blonde continued. "Real destiny lasts longer than a century. Real destiny is the stuff of prophecy and the Powers don't do prophecy for nut jobs like you, except maybe a dusty end." As she said these odd words, she rammed a piece of fencing into the dark one's chest and once more all that remained was ash.

William was trembling as he tried to catch his breath. "Don't worry, William. A good man like you are isn't going to be tied to THAT as a reward. She is not your destiny, even if she says she is. You are meant to be in the light, no matter how many dark tunnels you have to go through to get there. We complete each other. She's nothing but a means to an end."

"Who are you?" William dared to ask for the first time. In truth, this was the most the fair lady had ever said to him.

"I'm your biggest pain and greatest joy." With that she placed the lightest of kisses on his lips and faded out of view.

William woke with a great ache in his chest. The sense of loss he felt had more to do with the lovely woman of his dreams and less the grief over his beloved but distant father. "Fine son I am to mourn a figment rather than he who molded me."

For the first time, William tried to turn his dream into something lasting. He crossed the room to his small secretary and opened his inkwell. He had always loved poetry and if there were ever an inspiration for the words that so often eluded him, it was this glowing champion from his visions. If he had but the skill to pour out his adoration for her, his questing heart would beat proud. But just as before, the words danced just out of his grasp.

~~~

In the end, William returned to his studies and the world righted itself as much as possible after such a series of losses. He changed his area of study to better prepare to take the reigns of his father's holdings and interests, setting aside his beloved verses. "When I was a child, I thought as a child," he mused. "Time to put aside childish dreams and become a man of practicality. I will never be a Wordsworth or a Shelley. Doubt I'll even construct a decent limerick for sharing in a dockside pub."

While he gave up his pursuit of beauty in the written form, at least formally, he would never give up his golden muse. William would never stop writing his little bits of poetry, but he had finally realized his future was more mundane than that of a potential poet laureate. More than one professor sighed in relief. William was generally well-liked by his teachers and they hated to destroy his ambitions, but the sad truth was he just did not have the natural talent to match his heart's desire.

Late at night as he sought the arms of Morpheus, he tried to imagine what name went with his shining angel. He tried to fit every lovely name he had ever heard and none did her justice. If they fit her strength and prowess in battle, they were too hard. If they reflected her beauty and allure, they were too weak. He consigned her to the title of 'Destiny' and longed to embrace her in truth as well as vision.

When his more congenial classmates attempted to lure William into joining them in learning the ways of women at nearby taverns and brothels, he held to his dream of perfection and his determination to hold himself for her alone. For such a woman he would wait forever.

~*~


	4. Chapter 4

~*~  
Chapter 4  
~*~

~ 1873 London ~

"Are you quite certain that Miss Margaret took all of her personal items?" Anne once more questioned the beleaguered housekeeper. "Whatever shall I tell Christie?"

"Mother, you have done all that anyone could hope where Maggie is concerned." Sophia had watched her mother struggle for three years to keep the headstrong girl from rack and ruin. There had been one thwarted elopement already and now the girl appeared to have run off with another undesirable fellow. "Her taste in suitors is abominable."

Anne turned to the butler and charged him to send for her son. "Hobbs, do make certain not to alarm William overmuch. He has enough on his plate without assuming responsibility for his flibberty-jit of a cousin. Perhaps she should be allowed to stew in her own juices this time."

"William will want to pay off the boy like he did the last one. It's a miracle no one was the wiser after that stunt," Sophia mused.

"True, but that lad now has decent employ with the East India Company. Perhaps he was not so terrible a choice in hindsight. This fellow, however, has nothing to recommend himself."

"I was appalled at his table manners, to tell the truth," Sophia admitted. "I don't care if there are medical issues, it is impossible to dine while in his presence." Sophie shivered as she remembered the ill-advised family meeting over a meal that had introduced Maggie's latest object of desire. "He scarce looks human."

"As uncharitable as that statement is, I am afraid I have to agree. I have never seen a girl with so little sense when it comes to gentlemen."

"I suppose I should be grateful then for her making my own choice appear so grand," Sophia teased. She had recently become betrothed and while William might never feel any man equal to his sister, her fiance had been welcomed into the family nonetheless.

The man in question, Major General Giles, was currently with his regiment in Ghana attempting to put down the slave trade being engaged in by King Kofi Karikari. Sophia awaited his return anxiously and prayed her family's bad luck had finally come to an end. If Margaret's latest folly were the worst of things, then it might be safe to breathe freely.

Sure enough, all of Margaret's more prized possessions were as absent as the girl herself. It appeared she had run off into the night with her questionable young man. William was going to be livid.

~~~

The police officer who had been assisting young Mr. Pratt in the search for the missing girl was at a loss. "Seems this fella hasn't got a soul to vouch for him or his past. Without some trail there's little we can do to know where the gel's gotten off to."

"Margaret is of good family, sir," William insisted. "If this….this individual has brought her to shame or harmed her in any way, I shall not be responsible for any retaliation when I find them."

"Can't have you off makin' threats, even against the likes of this rogue," the officer warned. "Best leave things as is. The note said the gel was set to wed the lad. Shame we can't find any family for him though. Might set your mind at rest if you could know more about his particulars," the officer opined sympatheticially. As a father himself, he understood this family's worry. The young man who had run off with their charge appeared to have sprung from nowhere with no background or history to prove his worth.

William sighed in frustration. "Well, there's little we can do about this now. She's been gone a week. I can but hope he's made an honest woman of her."

"That's the ticket, sir! Keep hope alive and such," the officer smiled encouragingly. "Likely as not to turn up lookin' for a piece of the family pie eventually."

William paled at the memory of the lad in question seated at the dinner table. "I sincerely hope that is not the case," he nearly whispered. "Thank you again for your help, Officer…Dudley, is it? My mother in particular is grateful for all your efforts in this matter."

In truth, William had been the one to do most of the legwork, but it wouldn't do to be other than polite. All through their childhood, William had done his best to protect his loved ones, Maggie included, but the best of efforts had proven impossible where his cousin's love life was concerned.

 

Sophia walked in on her brother's musings. "Nothing then?" At William's shake of the head, she continued, "Perhaps a doctor might know something of this Garrick. With his digestive issues, he must surely have a physician."

"Maybe he will do the family a favor and expire on their honeymoon," William muttered in uncharacteristic lack of charity.

Sophie giggled a bit. She and William had often voiced their naughty thoughts to one another while growing up, but her brother had been quite somber since the passing of their father. She rather liked seeing some of the old fire. "I daresay our luck won't allow for that. I fear Maggie is stuck with the boy.

"William, I have been meaning to ask you if you are too put out with me for abandoning you in this way?" His sister looked a bit shamefaced. She felt guilty pursuing her own happiness in the face of her younger brother's increasing burden.

Their mother had begun to have some alarming health issues and now with her own impending marriage, the full weight of responsibility was bound to fall on the slight shoulders of her younger brother. He had already sacrificed so much in taking the helm of their father's business affairs and heading the family, she felt as if she were being quite the most selfish woman alive at this point.

"With Albert planning to remain in service, I won't be here to help you as a dutiful sister should. It wasn't planned, you know. I never expected to fall in love with a man who would take me so far from home. His next posting is India and I have no idea how long it will be before I am near enough to home to be of any help to you."

"Nonsense, Sophie." William gave her a gentle smile. "You should know that I, of all people, would never encourage you to abandon your chance at happiness. Albert is a fine man from a good family and he will make a wonderful husband for you. Much as mother and I shall miss your presence, just knowing you are well and loved will be compensation enough for us."

"Promise that you will let yourself love a worthy lady one day soon," Sophia begged. "I know that you have high standards and some idea of perfection you have yet to meet, but do not, I beg you, allow yourself to grow old alone in the hope such a perfect woman exists." She smiled ruefully. "We are rarely perfect."

William's mind went to the blonde perfection that visited his dreams and haunted his waking moments. "I am but one and twenty, scarcely a confirmed bachelor," he teased.

"True, but I know you well, brother," Sophie reminded him. "You may not write your lovely poems any longer, but your soul is still that of a romantic. You are tender and I'd not see you hurt."

"And who says I no longer write?" William grinned. "I merely keep them to myself instead of offering them for ridicule now."

His sister looked affronted. "I've not said a word against your verse and neither has mother."

"True, but the two of you are more than a bit biased, and also alone in your regard." William sighed. "Even my more generous teachers despaired of my poetry ever amounting to anything. I have the heart, but alas not the talent."

"I'd take your heart over all the talent in the world any day, brother. You know how to love and how to cherish those lucky enough to be in that number." Sophia knew her brother better than anyone and had always been proud of his depth of emotion. "Let the others have their words, you show your beauty in your actions."

William ducked his head at the fullsome compliments. "You put me to a blush, sister." He smiled and sought to reassure her of his future happiness. "I promise that there is a perfect woman for me out there. No, not perfect in all her ways, but perfect for me. I have a destiny and I'll not accept less."

Sophia raised her eyebrows half in amusement. "See, ever the romantic!"

~~~

They finally received a short note from Maggie explaining that her husband had taken her to his family's home. She appeared to be completely content and tried to reassure her family that she was in want for nothing.

Sophia's intended returned in August with plans for a wedding before his regiment was scheduled to head to the furthest reaches of the Empire.

"I shall send some of those lovely fabrics that the maharanis wear. William, you might make a fortune yet with the connections Albert shall make." Sophia was homesick already but loathe to make her husband feel any guilt for taking her so far from hearth and home.

The wedding a fortnight later was lovely in every aspect. Sophia was as beautiful a bride as ever graced St. James. William had proudly escorted his beloved sister down the aisle to her awestruck groom. Just that morning he and their mother had determined to withhold the information just received from Dr. Gull about Anne's medical diagnosis. No point in placing that burden on Sophie, especially on her special day.

William had been present when Dr. Gull made a personal appearance in the Pratt parlor just the day before to give the results of the examination Anne had undergone to discover the cause of her failing health. The diagnosis of consumption made William weak in the knees, though Anne appeared to take it in stride.

"I thought it nothing less. I have known others with the wasting disease and suspected as much," Anne had said quietly. "We must make certain to keep this information from Sofia. She would think it her duty to remain here and that I cannot allow."

William agreed without hesitation. It was his duty as the man of the house to deal with the repercussions of his mother's illness. Somehow knowing Sophie was out in the world and happy would make it all worthwhile.

After a brief holiday at the Giles' family estate near Bath, the newly wed pair headed for their exotic new home in the East. Sophia remained blissfully unaware of the death sentence pronounced over her treasured mother and the disguised grief that choked her smiling brother.

~~~

William's dreamed the night they saw the young couple off. The day had been long and William felt a deeper sense of loss than he had since losing Graham all those years ago. Sophia was alive but at the other end of the Earth. William wondered when he would next see his beloved sister again. Even with modern travel, it was not often a family could retain any real closeness when a planet divided them.

The one known as Drusilla came, almost as if William could have predicted it.

"All alone now, my William. No one to chitter and chatter, but you'll soon have me. Sister's off to make those what Watch. Keep the blood in the family veins, she will. Lots of families blood'll flow in yours, my dark prince. Are you happy to see me?"

"Not particularily," William answered in a weary tone. "I have far too many real worries at the moment to be bothered by a dream of a woman. You're as insubstantial as Hamlet's father and not as coherent."

"Not very nice," Dru frowned. "Come all this way to be with you and you've not set a place at the table. Miss Edith said you need to be reminded of your manners." Drusilla gazed off into the distance as if looking at someone only she could see. "Miss Edith was always one for telling tales. Still, Daddy will beat manners into you. Won't let 'im hurt your pretty face though, don't worry."

"Look, why don't you just go to this daddy of yours and leave me in what little peace I have? We both know these dreams end in you becoming nothing more than ash. If this daddy of yours is so wonderful, go haunt him."

"Naughty doggie!" Drusilla ran a sharp fingernail down William's cheek. "I wonder, do you bite yet?"

"I think you teach him that little trick, Dru." As anticipated, the goddess had arrived. "I'd stop this whole thing to keep you from ruining his life, but if I do that, he won't be there for me when the time comes. You should at least wait your turn before you start annoying him with your rantings though."

"'E's mine. Not natural you'd want 'im. Put in the burnin' bits to confuse and tame. 'E was born to make the world bleed, not lay at your feet. 'E's a warrior, not a puppy." Dru narrowed her eyes in anger at the other girl.

"Thought you just called him a doggie, Dru--which is it?" The golden one smirked a bit as Dru bit back a reply. "I make him better than he is. You just drag him down to your level." She looked at William and smiled. "We make each other better really."

"All you do is use 'im and throw 'im away. Make 'im dust too afore you finish with 'im," Dru spat.

William looked from one woman to the other. For once, his waking realities were horrifying enough to make the dream more surreal than frightening. "Much as I find the idea of two ladies fighting over me a novel one, I really don't have time to puzzle over your words." He spoke to both women. Nothing they said made sense, save they both seemed to feel they had a destiny, a claim on him at some future point.

"Destiny be damned, I'll make my own choices and right now I choose to sleep undisturbed," he said in annoyance. Perhaps Sophie was right and he needed to stop thinking of his blonde goddess and begin to look for a suitable wife. His mother would be wanting to see him settled and it was the least he could do to give her that comfort.

"That sounds more like you," the blonde beamed at him. "Let me just get rid of this nut job and you can get some rest." The goddess was as good as her word, once more consigning the dark princess to dust.

"Like it or not," the glowing one promised, "you are stuck with me and in time it will be your choice too." Then she disappeared once more.


	5. Chapter 5

~*~  
Chapter 5  
~*~

~ London 1880 ~

William was looking forward to the gathering at the Addams home. The Underwood fortunes were old, even if the title was new, and the youngest daughter of the current Earl was the reigning toast of society. He knew there was no way possible such a luminary as she would ever even take note of one such as himself, but he did dare to dream.

He had written his first poem about an actual breathing person because of the spell cast by her doe-like brown eyes. It had been his misfortune that some of his peers discovered his feeble efforts and held him and his poetry up to public humiliation. Still, to be in her presence and not try to put into words his emotions was unthinkable!

Sophie had written every week for the whole of the seven years since her marriage and in each letter she wrote encouragement for her brother to find the sort of happiness she had found in marriage. She and Albert already had three children that no one in England had yet to see. Anne was not fit to travel and William was hard-pressed to keep the family finances at a level to afford the very best of care for her.

Sophia had been greatly disturbed when they finally told her of Anne's precarious health. As expected, she had instantly determined to return to London to aid in her mother's care. It had taken the combined efforts of both William and Anne to prevent her from leaving at once. The onset of her first pregnancy with a few complications was the final deciding factor, however.

Now it was the hope that Anne would somehow defy the odds and survive the wasting disease that kept Sophie in Calcutta. Albert was not due to have a change in orders for another year and it was hoped that those orders would be for the war office in London. Sophie hoped to be able to relieve William of the sole responsibility for Anne's care. That was yet another reason she hoped her brother would find a worthy wife. William was far too devoted to ever pursue his own happiness at the expense of his mother's welfare. Sophia wished nothing more than that he have a helpmate to bring him joy and share his burden.

William had written to his sister about the lovely girl from the Addams brood. He had dared cherish the hope that one day the girl would see past his genteel lack of wealth and recognize the potential of both himself and the businesses in his control. The Earl of Underwood had more children than he could count and would not sniff at an untitled gentleman seeking his youngest's hand.

Of course William had no aspirations of ever asking for that or any other part of the lovely Cecily. She was a dream, as insubstantial as the golden goddess of his nightly dreams. Yet in his romantic heart he had a small ember of hope that one day he would finally have the family fortunes firmly fixed and the beautiful society star would deign to notice him.

In the meantime, he took what opportunities arose to be in her lofty company.

Anne even encouraged William's dreams by guessing his attraction and finding nothing to discourage his mental ramblings.

 

William's world had narrowed considerably over the past few years. His focus was now upon making Anne Pratt's life as comfortable and carefree as possible in the face of her rapidly declining health. This included many a long day at the shipyards working alongside his late father's man of business. The wolf was far from the door, but the family was still not as well fixed as they had once been in William's childhood.

Evenings for the most part were devoted to entertaining his mother. William would gladly have donned a cap with bells and wielded a pig's bladder on a stick like a traditional court jester to put a smile on that good lady's face again. As it was, he had taken to reciting his infernal poetry, seeking to amuse her. Much to his surprise, his mother seemed to actually like his rhymes. He found his confidence growing in the warmth of her praise.

Perhaps this would be the night he would share his offerings with the lovely Cecily? He believed that such an angelic visage had to contain a gentle and loving soul, a mate to his own, or so he dared hope.

William was nearing thirty and anxious to build a family of his own. He had always enjoyed the image of a warm and close family where he could be the loving father he had ever yearned for as a child. Having grown up in a fairly large family, he wanted to recreate that for himself and perfect it. He only needed the right woman to complete his life and give him the modest desires of his heart. Perhaps one day it would be Cecily Addams.

~~~  
(A/N some dialogue taken from episode "Fool For Love" written by Douglas Petrie) 

William was beyond destroyed. T'would have been bad enough to be turned away, to have his love spurned. The chit hadn't been satisfied with that though. She had to grind him into the earth as if he were an insect or worse. 'Beneath her indeed!' he fumed in hurt rage. He was so engrossed in ripping apart the offending bit of verse that had started his humiliation that he didn't see the trio walking towards him.

In uncharacteristic rudeness, he spat at the man, "Oh, watch where you're going," as he continued towards the stables and escape.

"What's the use? No woman of my class will deign to entertain my suit now. She's made me a pariah," William sobbed. "Might as well have Sophie send some officer's daughter for an arranged marriage at this rate."

He sat upon a bale of hay and wept out his misery. Didn't the girl know he would have treasured her? He would have laid the world at her feet for so much as a kind word. He would never have made the sorts of demands upon her many of their set would likely make. Never would he treat a woman he loved as chattel. He would have treated her as his equal, his beloved.

A voice, vaguely familiar, came from the darkness. "And I wonder what possible catastrophe came crashing down from heaven and brought this dashing stranger to tears?"

William's eyes, never the strongest, couldn't make out the woman in the dark, but the voice was haunting the edges of his mind. "Nothing. I wish to be alone."

Suddenly, there she was in front of him and he had to wonder if he had slipped into sleep. The dark princess was there, in the flesh. He felt a shiver of fear as ice seemed to move up his spine.

She was closing in on him and this time William doubted the golden goddess was going to appear between them. As that thought passed through his mind, the dark woman frowned and began to sway, her movements putting William in mind of a reptile hypnotizing its prey.

"Oh, I see you. A man surrounded by fools who cannot see 'is strength, 'is vision, 'is glory," she paused and her eyes seemed to take on a faraway look. "That and burning baby fish swimming all around your 'ead."

William backed up quickly, filled with fear. The peculiar statement made all his years of dreams suddenly come to the front of his mind. "I remember you," he whispered. "You're not real."

"Am too," Drusilla countered. "More real than anyone you've yet met, my William. Saw you, I did. Long ago, but knew it was you when you knocked into Daddy. It's time. Told you you were my destiny."

"No, no, you are not any such thing!" William denied forcefully. "The other, the bright goddess, she's my destiny."

"Can't 'ave my William all confused," Drusilla decided. She locked eyes with the terrified young man and began the swaying motion once again. "Forget 'er. There's none but me, my dark prince. I'm all there ever was, me and the promise of our forever. You belong to me, the stars promised it. You remember now."

"You," William spoke in trance-like obedience. "Always and only you. My dark princess, my destiny."

"That's right," Drusilla continued. "I'm all you'll ever need. You'll give me what I need too." She pointed to William's head, "So much work, but your wealth lies 'ere." She then gently laid her dainty hand on his chest. "And 'ere. In the spirit and…imagination."

William couldn't tear his eyes from the woman. He remembered her there in the dark with him through all the worst moments of his life. Only her, the one destined for him. The one always destined for him.

She was speaking again, "You walk in worlds the others cannot begin to imagine."

"Oh, yes!" William breathed out. She understands me, always has. Suddenly he remembered his mother and her illness. Destiny or no, his princess had to understand that the time was wrong. "I mean, no. I mean…Mother is expecting me."

His princess pressed on, opening his shirt collar and touching him where no one save himself had in years. "I see what you want. Something glowing and glistening. Something…Effulgent."

Her words teased at memory. Something about her and his destiny tied to a glowing promise of delight to come. Her use of the same word that his peers had just guffawed over caused him to blink rapidly. "Effulgent?"

She looked him in the eye again with a demand phrased as a question, "Do you want it?"

"Oh, yes, GOD, yes." The destiny that had been the driving force of all his desires seemed at last within his grasp. Her face changed, leaving him puzzled, but before he could question what he was seeing, her lips met his throat and he was eternally lost.

~~~

Anne Pratt was beside herself. William had been gone for days. She had heard rumors of a public embarrassment and her beloved son storming from the Underwood town house. 'I should never have encouraged his aspirations. That girl is not nearly good enough for my boy.'

It wasn't like William to let her worry so. She spent each day beginning in hope and ending in dread. Only the gravest of circumstances could be keeping him from her side.

Dr. Gull had been called to her bedside by the worried staff and she had spent the past few days heavily sedated. Hobbs conferred with Mrs. Lamb about having a telegram sent to Miss Sophia to inform her of her brother's disappearance and her mother's failing health.

"No, the mistress wouldn't want 'er bothered so far away and all," Mrs. Lamb cautioned. "Mr. William wouldn't allow it either."

"That's just it though, he ain't about," Hobbs whispered. "Shouldn't be up to us to make these kind of decisions. Meant to follow orders, not make 'em up."

"I've a nephew who could poke about a bit, see if 'e can find Mr. William," Mrs. Lamb offered. "Not like the lad to hightail it, leavin' 'is dear mum all sick and dying. Don't care what that cat of a girl said to 'im at a party. Just wouldn'ta done it."

"Precisely. I fear Mr. William may be forever lost to us. How I do not know, but as you say, anything else is unthinkable."

"Maybe a blow to the 'ead. That'd keep the boy away," Mrs. Lamb offered with some dark hope.

"The missus certainly is hoping for the like."

"Let me send word to Archie then, see what we can find out afore we send all the way to that 'eathen country for Miss Sophia."

Hobbs nodded uneasily. Somehow he knew in his ancient heart that all of their lives had permanently altered and not for the better.

~~~

(A/N: some dialogue from "Destiny" written by David Fury and Steve DeKnight)

William swung between euphoria and despair. His attempt to save his mother with the same miracle that allowed him to defy death had resulted in the most horrifying moments of his entire life.

He had the last of his heart ripped to shreds by the accusations of the demon residing, thanks to him, within his mother's body. Now he could only stay as far from his remaining family as possible to prevent any such a thing happening to Sophia and her family. Luckily they were half a world away. There would be no proud introductions to his dark princess now.

He had arranged to pension off the staff and put all the family assets in the control of his father's man of business. Much as he was coming to enjoy his decadent forays with Angelus, he wasn't about to put all he had labored so hard over into the hands of an obvious degenerate.

Proof of the depravity in the other vampire was this evening's activities. Angelus had taken William along to the killing fields. William quite enjoyed the strength and power of his new status and gloried in fights where he was outnumbered.

His dark princess was drawn to children. At first it was as though she wished to mother them, but eventually the demon within took over and there would be tiny corpses to dispose of. William had been warned by Angelus to prevent Dru from turning any of the tykes. After all, no one wanted a permanently dependent child for all eternity.

Between killings, William spent the evening regaling Angelus with his years of dreams, of Drusilla and his eternal destiny at her side. Angelus had laughed at the younger vampire's naivete but said not a word. They ended their revels by arriving uninvited at a wedding reception. William had taken pleasure in giving one of the attendees the railway spike he had begged for when William had been human. All the other guests had scattered, screaming in terror.

Angelus availed himself of the bride's favors as a sort of macabre dessert. Like most of the Anglo-Irish merchant class, the vampire that had once been Liam Burke had a deep hatred for Papists. He had since made a career for himself by attacking convents and churches with gleeful abandon. This night he took complete pleasure by slowly torturing the priest unfortunate enough to have been the celebrant of the marriage. As they rode toward the hotel that was their current shelter, the nearly drained bride was propped up next to the older vampire.

William had decided to find Drusilla and tempt her into more satisfying fare than toddlers. Angelus reminded his protegee to be home before sunrise as the carriage rode off into the night.

A few hours of searching had failed to turn up his beloved and William made his way back to the place he now called home.

Mere weeks earlier, walking into the scene being played out before him would have shocked William to his foundations. Angelus was obviously engaged in sexual relations with the near dead girl from the wedding. Actually, William noticed no sign of heartbeat and assumed Angelus was engaging in a perversion of another sort. "Well, looks like you haven't had your fill of her after all."

William had come to believe there was nothing further to shock him, nothing more to lose in his existence. What he saw when Angelus moved back from the girl on the bed proved those beliefs wrong.

The girl was his beloved, his Drusilla, his destiny. She looked up at William and pouted, "The children wouldn't come out to play." She caressed Angelus at the same time she coquettishly asked, "Did you miss me, pretty William?"

Angelus answered for the dumbstruck vampire, "I'm sure he did, Dru. After all you ARE his destiny."

Angelus laughed at the raw pain etched on William's face as Drusilla leaned into her daddy's embrace and commented, "That's so sweet," before joining in the laughter.

William knew hatred at that moment. A hatred that would fuel his thoughts about Angelus from that moment forward. Drusilla must be spellbound! Had she not been the one to promise herself to him for years? It was no silly schoolboy's romantic notion that she was to be his.

At that moment, all his dreams turned to dust and his sleep was devoid of the promises that had marked them for years.  
~*~


	6. Chapter 6

~*~  
Chapter 6  
~*~

_~ Sunnydale, California, 2001, final resting place of Buffy Summers ~_

_(A/N Poem quoted is "Sonnet 17" by Pablo Neruda, translated from the Spanish)_

"Where was I?" Spike asked, expecting no answer. "Oh, yeah, the first time I ever saw you. 'Twas a night much like this one, filled with warm breezes, bloomin' flowers and grief enough to still a beatin' heart.

"You were the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen. I was but nine years old, yet you had my heart from that moment. You drove away the demon and promised me paradise, gave me comfort and hope, an ideal to dream of and desire."

He stopped, sobbing as if his unbeating heart had been torn from his chest. "Ah, Buffy love! She took you from me. The same night she killed me, she took the only good and lovely thing I had in my life. You were my hope, my desire for years. You were always there, beckoning to me over the ages, but she ripped you away from my mind, leaving only her dark temptations. Her evil parody of your promises."

Spike thought back over the last four years of his existence. "How different it might had been if I had remembered you, pet." He shuddered at his hiring of the Order of Taraka and his many attempts to kill her himself. "I would have known you from the first and laid my heart at your feet."

"True," he laughed ruefully, 'you'd like as not kicked it back in my face with your dainty feet. Still, I'd have not wasted all those years calling you my enemy."

He thought of his century with Dru, years more bitter than sweet. He had adored her, felt he was designed just for her pleasure. Hadn't his dreams told him so? He never betrayed her as she had him, time after time. His dark princess had used him as a convenient substitute for her longed-for daddy, molding him into as fierce a vampire as ever their sire had been. He had remade himself to please her, always to please her. Turned himself inside out. It had never been enough.

"By the time we came to Sunnyhell, Dru had stopped carin' if I wanted another, that's why she didn't tamper with anything that happened between us from then on," Spike explained. "Let me build walls, burn bridges while she laughed to herself."

Spike thought of why he was there in the cool night air and how his failure had led to Buffy's death. "Maybe if I'd had those memories you wouldn't have had to jump. Coulda known I needed to protect you early on, you and the Bit. Saved us all the battle with the hell bitch.

"How do I go on, Buffy?" he asked in despair. "My destiny, my TRUE destiny is layin' in the earth. But I did promise to look out for the Bit. Not gonna let you down again.

"Give Dru a bit of credit though. Thought by comin' here and returnin' my true memories of those dreams that I'd find a bit of comfort." Spike snorted in disgust. "Who am I kidding, she only did it 'cause she knew it was too late. Angelus woulda been proud of her mind fuck.

"Can't talk to the Watcher 'bout this, but wish I could understand how you came to me all those times. Know it was you, even down to your creative use of the Queen's English." He laughed as he remembered how his golden goddess had so confused him with her words and phrases all those years ago.

He rose from her grave and decided to recite a bit of a poem he only wished he could have crafted. It said so much of how he felt for her…always had felt for her. The first verse didn't fit--not for his shining one--but the second was perfect.

"Bloke named Neruda wrote a bit of somethin' that always calls you to mind. Least I know his words won't make you laugh and I mean every syllable."

_"I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where._  
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;  
so I love you because I know no other way  
than this: where **I** does not exist, nor **you** ,  
so close that your hand on my chest is **my** hand,  
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep. 

"Always feel that way, love. Don't know how to go on elsewise. Told you once that I was drownin' in you. You takin' that jump off that tower won't change that. I'll do my duty by the Niblet, then meet the sun. You are part of me, love, the best part. Can't be going on with part of me gone, now can I?"

Spike headed back towards Revello Drive and a last check on Dawn before daylight. The Scoobies had been meeting over some do-gooder plan or other and Spike knew the girl would be fast asleep. He figured, with any luck, Dawn would live to a ripe old age and then he could pack it in. He wouldn't shirk his responsibility to the girl. He'd have her back as he should have always had her sister's. "Could have loved you all those years, even if you'd not loved me. Been a better man too, someone you might have been able to love back."

As he walked, he thought of his years with Dru, years built on a lie. He might have been so different had he remembered. He certainly would never have put up with Drusilla and her infidelities and insanities had he remembered his dreams properly.

Dru had been a fairie after all, bent on stealing a human child and luring it away from the world it belonged in, into the darkness.

~~~

Buffy looked down at the devestated vampire headed towards her home and turned to the being next to her. "So this is it for him? You let me slip into his dreams, try to help, only to leave it at this?"

She had been watching the events of the summer closely and had quickly realized that Spike's words of love before the whole Glory fiasco had just scratched the surface of the depth of his feelings for her. She saw the good man he was under all his sins and the man he wished to be for her. There was no sugar coating of the Big Bad's deeds, but she now resided in a place of love and forgiveness. There was enough of both to spare for the broken creature who loved her so desperately.

When the Powers told her that her friends were going to pull her back into life, Buffy had begged them to prevent it. It was only then that she was told of the beautiful future that could be hers if she would only reach out and take the hand already offered. She saw him,  
really saw him. She saw the future they could make, the world they could first save and then rebuild together. She felt a hunger unlike any before as she witnessed the life being offered to her.

That was when the Powers allowed her to visit the boy's dreams and later the young man. Heaven was a place outside of time, so it was easily accomplished. Buffy wanted badly to do in reality what her dream self did over and over. For the pain Dru had caused Spike, she wanted nothing less than to have the chance to dust just that one more vampire.

"So, I'm going back huh?" Buffy said with a touch of excitement."Gonna get another shot at that whole destiny thing?"

"Yes, child, but you will carry with you no memory of this. You must chose from your own free will and there are events that depend on your not knowing." The being of light that had become Buffy's close companion was sympathetic but firm.

"You mean the whole 'Spike's gotta get that soul and then die' has to happen?" When the being  
nodded in the affirmative, Buffy asked, "What about after, when the doofus is too insecure, thanks to me, to come looking for me after he gets a return ticket from the great beyond? Why does that have to happen?"

"Spike must find himself, come to decide who and what he will be. Free will is the most powerful law in the universe, Buffy; you must realize that."

"Sure, but I mean I've seen how it turns out and that's cool and all, but isn't that kinda like fate? Where's the free will there?" Buffy scrunched her forehead in confusion.

"Remember, the same reason you were able to be in the dreams of a boy in Victorian England is why you can know how it turns out. It is not that things are fated, it is that all choices have been seen from here, outside of time itself." Buffy still looked confused. "Fate implies you have no choice. The reality is only that your choice is known, not forced."

"And again with the 'huh?'" Buffy quipped. She thought she understood but loved tweaking the being who had been saddled with her instruction.

"You know what you want. We did not make you want it. The same is true for William. We have the joy of having witnessed the outcome, that is all." The being sighed and let it go. "Never mind. Thankfully, you won't remember this either."

"Isn't that kinda what Dru did to Spike though, the whole forgetting thing? Why was it so bad then and okie dokie now?"

"Dru did it for manipulation, to force her will over William's. You will chose wisely without the knowledge. You will arrive where you are destined without you feeling the need to force things. There is much learned from pain and both of you need to learn. Learn about yourselves, learn about each other. The pain you inflict upon each other will be like a fire to metal, make you stronger when that fire is removed. You will become a different person because of choices you will make, choices that will hurt others at the time. The person you become will be unlikely to hurt others in the future. William will cleanse his past and regain his sense of self. The best things in life come at a price." The being smiled at the girl walking beside him.

"Still, it seems a shame I can't give Spike SOMETHING to carry him over the next few years. Something to give him that hope he had before Dru messed with his memories. Hey, I saw what's coming and he's going to go through hell for a while there, thanks to me."

"Perhaps one more dream, one carefully worded, might be acceptable," the being agreed and proceeded to suggest something to Buffy that made her smile.

~~~

The crypt was cold and uninviting when Spike finally returned home. Dawn had been asleep as he suspected. While he watched over the sleeping girl, she had another of her nightmares and he slipped into her room to offer what comfort he could before making the way back to his own waiting bed.

A quick wash-up from the makeshift shower in the tunnel and Spike lay his exhausted self down in hopes of a dreamless sleep. He had never felt so empty.

Naturally he fell into a dream almost from the start. Buffy was there, all pink and warm and alive. She smiled at his astonishment. "Hey, didn't think you'd be rid of me that easily, did you? Especially after the pretty poem you said at my grave."

Spike blinked in surprise to have even a dream Buffy look at him the way she was, filled with affection and pleasure to see him. "I went to a lot of trouble to give you dreams only to have that miserable witch take them away. Since you'll need something to hold onto when I get back and decide to use you as my own vampire-shaped emotional punching bag, I've decided to give you one more dream before all the fun starts.

"You only read the last part of that poem." Spike raised a skeptical eyebrow at the thought that Buffy recognized it at all. "Yeah, you're right, I had to look it up. That first verse… it could be about you, you know. Why don't you just keep those words tucked in your heart for the bad times to come? Whenever you doubt how I really feel about you, remember this dream."

Buffy took out a slip of paper and began to recite:

 _" I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,_  
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.  
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,  
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.  
I love you as the plant that never blooms  
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;  
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,  
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body."

"It won't be a secret always, Spike, I promise. One day I'll shout it to the world." Once more, as in dreams of old, she leaned in to kiss him. Only this time it was a kiss filled with promise, with hope. As always, Spike wasn't sure what it all meant, only that their story was  
far from over.

She was, after all, his destiny.

 

~ fin


End file.
